by Stephanie Joynes

Created on: September 18, 2008   Last Updated: November 01, 2008

As I stepped on the scale for my final weigh in before the birth of my baby, I zeroed in on my original starting weight. The nurse announced my current weight and I practically passed out. I had gained 65 pounds over the past 9 months! I flashbacked to the unfortunate cheese filled pizza event of September, the multiple doughnuts I had eaten to calm my morning sickness, and all of the glorious orange juice that my growing baby craved at 2AM.

65 pounds.

A week after that mortifying wake up call, my water broke. A week after that we came home with a healthy baby girl. I looked at my old closet and realized there was no possible way I was ever going to fit in my old wardrobe. But then I saw that skirt I bought a few years ago from Anthropologie. It was made of a green light fabric and looked so graceful when I walked, with little ruffles that went all the down to my ankles. It made me feel so good about myself. How could I never wear that skirt again? That was when I decided the weight had to come off.

I'm not that different from any other mom. I suffered through the breastfeeding, the military-style sleep deprivation and the ridiculous hormone fluctuations. But the next time I went to the mall, I bought myself a $20 pedometer. I wanted to see how much I actually moved during the day. Simply put, I wasn't.

The next time my mother-in-law came to visit so I could nap, I decided to take a walk instead. I loaded up my iPod, put on my sneakers, didn't care that I hadn't bathed in 3 days, and gave myself permission for some "me" time. I came back an hour later with 5428 steps on my pedometer and a very flushed face. It was invigorating.

So every day my mother-in-law came over, I handed my daughter over and went for a walk. If she couldn't make it, I handed the baby to my husband when he got home and walked out the door. This worked for my maternity leave, but then I had to go back to work and I knew my plan was quickly going to falter.

I stepped off the train into the city and I kept my pedometer hidden under my shirt. I was addicted to looking at those numbers at the end of the day knowing I had put some effort towards my goal. If there was an opportunity to walk, I walked there. I walked to work, up stairs instead of taking the elevator, and took a stroll on my lunch break.

It took 9 months to gain 65 pounds, and it took about that long to take the weight off too. But I love my pedometer. It brought me back to that beautiful green skirt that made me feel good about myself. I was back to being me, but a new version of me.

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